


Lake Visalakhutta

by WeekendWriter



Series: A Far Cry from Canon [2]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Game Ending, Sabal finally realizes he's been a dick, Skinny Dipping, and that's a good thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeekendWriter/pseuds/WeekendWriter
Summary: Ajay comes to the lake in the hopes of cooling down.Apparently the universe (or, more accurately Sabal) has other ideas.





	Lake Visalakhutta

**Author's Note:**

> It's difficult sometimes to imagine ways in which these two could co-exist in a way that doesn't involve Sabal manipulating Ajay, but I'm going to try. Because Ajay deserves some peace dammit.

It’s hot as balls out. Ajay remembers the days he used to laugh at the unsuspecting Royal Army’s similar complaints before he flew out of the blue to end them, the grumbles of how hot it was under the stylish yet unfunctional coats no doubt designed by Chiffon. He’d laugh and scoff and bide his time freezing his face off in the harsh Himalayan wind, but now that he's confined to the lowlands, Ajay gets it. The sun rolls over the mountains and promptly heats the south to an unbearable temperature these days. He suffers silently the first week in his zipped jacket, unable to part with it until he has to admit that the pit stains are getting kind-of ridiculous. His arms feel naked in the Kyrati air, but it's the last straw when he has to eventually relinquish the gloves he’d come to love. The pads of his fingers roughen with time and the farmer’s tan he’s developing would be embarrassing if anyone were to actually see him with his shirt off. 

Because it’s not like he actually has any free time to sunbathe. Pagan Min is long gone, and the revelations he left rippling in his wake have left Ajay with a sour taste in his mouth regarding the Golden Path. Pagan could have been lying about everything, Ajay realizes, but the journals left behind by Mohan have pounded the final nail in the bastard’s coffin. His mother, his half-sister, his so-called-father that couldn’t have been around for him half as much as Pagan was – it’s all too much for Ajay, who takes off the second Pagan’s helicopter disappears into the mist over the white of the Himalayas. 

It’s hot in the north. It's hot in the south. It’s hot even at the Homestead, which he realizes after he spends an entire day simply soaking under the endless flow of the waterfall behind the house. So when he wakes one morning without a sound from the radio by his bedside, he takes full advantage. 

He's seen the lake a few times, even flown over it once in a gyrocopter, but hasn't yet approached the shoreline until now. Ajay brings the ATV to a stop at the end of the designated dirt path and swings a leg over it. The sun is just now peeking over the Himalayas, and this far below altitude, it's as gorgeous a sight as ever. It's amazing, he thinks, to be able to see snow so close and yet far enough that he can feel sweat trailing down his back. 

It's a tease, really. 

It's quiet here; there's not even the noise of stray bullets perforating the air. The peace itself makes Ajay feel ten times cooler already. But it's not enough, not when he can feel loose hair already flattening and sticking to the back of his neck and really, he needs a haircut _badly_. He tugs his shirt over his head and shimmies out of his pants and, after a cursory glance around him, drops his boxers as well. It's not likely he'll be interrupted this far out in the countryside this early and, if anything, he'll hear whatever it is coming long before he sees it. He tucks his clothes carefully under a nearby log to make sure they won't run away and steps into the water. 

Instant bliss greets him. The water is, thank _God_ , finally the one source of cooling he's managed to find in the entire country. Ajay sighs; the water laps at his toes and it only takes a few seconds for him to throw himself forward into the water without another thought. 

Ajay can't remember the last time he felt anything that felt this good. Not even the shit Reggie and Yoggie have been pumping him with has felt like this (and some of those have been _wild_ rides). But here, being softly carried by the water to another spectacular view of the mountains? 

This is ten times better. 

He's so immersed in the feeling of the water cooling his skin that he doesn't notice until he finally sits up. Ajay starts and flails in his attempt to upright himself enough that he scatters water all the way back to the coast. 

Sabal is standing at the edge of the water, arms hanging loosely at his sides, a smile tugging loosely at his lips. 

"I – shit. Uh, hi Sabal?" Ajay stammers as he hopes the water is dark enough to hide – well, everything. 

"Hello brother." That crooked smile remains. 

He looks good, Ajay thinks, and marginally less pissed than he should considering the fact that not long ago, Ajay was holding a gun to his face. The memory makes his stomach sour. It'd just been another day, another shot, but something about the situation was... different. The way Sabal had looked at him still ate at him. 

Probably because Sabal knew what was going to happen. Some days, Ajay wished he'd listened. Others, he knew that if he'd listened to Sabal, he would have been at the same place, just a different time with a different person 

It turns out none of the three of them were suited to be rulers. 

The way Sabal is looking at him now, though? Like night and day. Like the feeling of the cool water against his skin compared to the sticky air. 

"What're you..." Ajay trails off as Sabal strolls even closer. And _stroll_ isn't a word Ajay ever thought he'd use to describe Mr. Rigidity the traditionalist. The smirk (there isn't another way to describe the way Sabal's lips are tugged), the casual slouch; everything about Sabal seems different. With a capital D. 

Though, to be fair, Ajay hasn't seen him since that day. It's been a while, longer than he can keep track of in the craziness of the country, and apparently long enough that Sabal is fine with-- 

Stripping? 

The denim jacket with the glossy Golden Path logo is halfway to the ground before Ajay's brain finally catches up to what is happening. 

"Seems like a lovely day for a swim," Sabal finally replies. "You certainly look like you've got the right idea." 

There's something to how Sabal says the words, an edge to his tone, that has Ajay checking the water below his waist again. Nothing can be seen from there, right? 

_Right?_

The shirt underneath is off next and Ajay has to force himself not to stare. It's hard, though, much like what's happening below the water – and what happened to his _nice quiet swim_? 

Ajay makes a show of dunking his hands into the water to run a few handfuls through his hair. Though by now, he's cooled down plenty – and is heating up in a much different way. By the time he looks back around, Sabal is waist-deep in the water much like himself. The former Golden Path leader unties the band from around his hair, and after he dunks his head in the water, Ajay's _gone_. 

Dark, silky-black hair hangs loosely around Sabal's head. The shorter strands frame Sabal's bright green eyes. They're positively _shining_ back at him and are a far cry from the eyes that glared almost literal daggers at him while proclaiming that he was shitting on his father's memory, ruining the glory of the Path, etc. etc. Ajay's not sure if it's the current or the man's own motions but suddenly Sabal is inches away from him, and seriously he _just wanted a simple swim_. 

"Sabal– " Ajay's practically choking on the words. If he can, he'll blame that on the lake water, but for now, he's speechless as Sabal comes within touching range. "I'm not– " 

_Not still bent on killing you anymore? Not sure about this? Not wearing underwear?_

The latter is apparently what the older man is thinking of when Sabal's smirk widens as he replies gruffly, "Me either," and grabs Ajay's cock. 

Ajay's response is cut off immediately because holy shit, among the list of things he expected to happen today, this is in a completely different universe. Sabal strokes a hand confidently up and down the shaft, and Ajay can't help but groan at the touch. The pace increases and Ajay instinctively flexes toward the body in front of him– 

Sabal's not wearing anything either. 

If he thought his brain had short circuted before, now Ajay's completely frozen. His brain is stuck on about a hundred different questions but the prevailing one seems to be not why is Sabal standing next to me giving me a hand job but why does it feel so good. 

Better than the water, even. 

He stands for one press of Sabal's lips to his before he's tugging back with a strangled, "Why?" 

Sabal pauses, hand stilling, as he meets Ajay's gaze evenly. "So many reasons, Ajay." Sabal addresses him by name and his cock jumps shamelessly without his permission. He flushes. "Mainly, Ajay– " another jump of his dick and _seriously, cool it down_ "– because you were right." 

_Oh fuck._

That's not something he's ever heard come from the older man's lips. Not directed at Amita, not even directed at any of the other higher-ranking members of the Golden Path. But here, now, those lips are wandering from Ajay's own to the side of his neck, to lower– 

Apparently, cooling off isn't on the books for today. 

And Ajay is perfectly okay with that.


End file.
